et where he kept bank-notes.

"No, sir; no! Anybody else should have done just as we have done. I will
not accept any recompense; but pray don't take offense. Certainly, I
am not rolling in wealth, but please excuse my pride--that of an old
soldier; I have the Tonquin medal--and I don't wish to eat food which I
haven't earned."

"As you like," said the financier; "but an old soldier like you is
capable of something better. You are too good to push a handcart. I will
make some arrangement for you, never fear."

The cripple responded by a quiet smile, and said coldly: "Well, sir, if
you really wish to do something for me--"

"You'll let me care for Zidore, won't you?" cried M. Godefroy, eagerly.

"That I will, with the greatest of pleasure," responded Pierron,
joyfully. "I have often, thought about the child's future. He is a sharp
little fellow. His teachers are delighted with him."

Then Pierron suddenly stopped, and an expression came over his face
which M. Godefroy at once interpreted as one of distrust. The thought
evidently was: "Oh, when he has once left us he'll forget us entirely."

"You can safely pick the child up in your arms and take him to the
carriage. He'll be better at home than here, of course. Oh, you needn't
be afraid of disturbing him. He is fast asleep, and you can just pick
him up. He must have his shoes on first, though."

Following Pierron's glance M. Godefroy perceived on the hearth, where
a scanty coke fire was dying out, two pairs of children's shoes;--the
elegant ones of Raoul, and the rough ones of Zidore. Each pair contained
a little toy and a package of bonbons.

"Don't think about that," said Pierron in an abashed tone. "Zidore put
the shoes there. You know children still believe in Christmas and the
child Jesus, whatever scholars may say about fables; so, as I came back
from the _commissaire_, as I didn't know whether your boy would have to
stay here to-night, I got those things for them both."

At which the eyes of M. Godefroy, the freethinker, the hardened
capitalist, and _blase_ man of the world, filled with tears.

He rushed out of the house, but returned in a minute with his arms full
of the superb mechanical horse, the box of leaden soldiers, and the rest
of the costly playthings bought by him in the afternoon, and which had
not even been taken out of the carriage.

"My friend, my dear friend," said he to the greengrocer, "see, these are
the presents which Christmas has